


Pain.

by dannylove16



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Car Accidents, Crying, Emotional Hurt, John is the bodyguard (sort of), M/M, Sad with a Happy Ending, Violet is the PR person, a lot lol, sorry for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 01:07:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12924057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannylove16/pseuds/dannylove16
Summary: What are the chances of being in a car accident in Los Angeles, California? 1 out of 1000? Out of 100? Maybe 50? 10? Does it really matter? It could’ve happen to anyone, literally anyone, there were dozens of cars around right then, at any time and for any reason. Out of every single person in the world, it happened to the one person Harry couldn’t live without. That had to be some sort of cosmical joke.





	Pain.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! So, this is the first thing I post, so be gentle with me hahaha. This fic has some medical concepts and I'd like to point out that I'm not a doctor and I don't know how these things work in America, but I tried to make it as realistic as I could. Also, english is not my first language so if you see any errors please feel free to tell me wo I can make the necessary changes.

What are the chances of being in a car accident in Los Angeles, California? 1 out of 1000? Out of 100? Maybe 50? 10? Does it really matter? It could’ve happen to anyone, literally anyone, there were dozens of cars around right then, at any time and for any reason. Out of every single person in the world, it happened to the one person Harry couldn’t live without. That had to be some sort of cosmical joke. 

‘It could happen to me right now’ Harry thinks as the city passes by the car window like a blurry spot of artificial light, and in his current state of stupor, he laughs. It isn’t just a chuckle or a snort, he’s laughing out loud, like he’s just been told the funniest of jokes. And well… yeah, the whole situation had to be a fucking joke, there was no other way his brain would take it. He’d go crazy. 

“You okay there, boss?” he hears someone say very close to him, and it actually takes him a few seconds to remember he’s not alone in the car, because there had to be someone driving it at 180 km per hour, and he isn’t. Harry slowly turns his head to look at the person sitting in the driver’s seat, who’s looking at him with a concerned frown. 

Harry knows he’s not okay, there’s a small part of his brain fighting to come out, the part that’s not in shock, and it’s screaming ‘this is not okay’. But then there’s this other bigger part holding his perception in denial because it also knows that if he gives into full consciousness, he’ll lose his mind. He won’t be able to hold himself together. So he shakes his head as the laugher dies in his throat, and his fuzzy brain decides to concentrate on a happy memory, like mere 20 minutes ago, before he got the phone call. 

He was standing in the middle of his kitchen cooking a special meal, not because it was a special date, but because he was feeling happy and relaxed and he just wanted to share his mood with the person he was waiting for. He was pouring tomato sauce to the boiling pan with pasta on the stove, swaying his hips to the beat of the music he set, like every time he cooked. He turned around facing the counter where his vegetables were waiting to be chopped, when the music suddenly stopped and was replaced by his default ringtone; he couldn’t recognize the number on the screen and he was close to hit the ‘ignore’ button, but something made him take it, thinking maybe someone he knew changed their phone number and wanted to let him know (it was very common). So he hit the green button and put the device on his ear. 

“ ‘Ello?” he said right away, and the first thing he noticed on the other side of the line was… a siren wailing and lots of background noises, people talking and something metallic being moved. 

Warning number one: noise.

“Good night, are you Mr. Styles?” a rushed masculine voice asked making itself rise above the other voices, and Harry’s first thought was ‘not for long’, but nodded nonetheless.

Warning number two: his name, right from the start.

“Yeah, it’s me” he replied, suddenly feeling unsteady and alarmed. There was a lot of noise.

“Alright Mr. Styles, I need you to listen very carefully” the voice requested, and didn’t wait for his answer. 

Warning number three: despite the rushed words, the voice was trying to be calm. Harry noticed. 

“There’s been a car accident and a person who’s got you as an Emergency contact was involved.”

His brain began a crazy race right then, trying to count all the people in Los Angeles these days that were close enough with him to have him as an emergency contact. For some reason the first one on the line was Gemma, but she was in London, as well as his mum. Niall was in Vegas a couple days ago, but… And Liam… 

Oh, God… Liam!

“Oh no” he murmured, a clutching feeling on his chest already and he started walking towards his bedroom, the only certain thing in his mind was the need to be there for his friend. 

And then the voice spoke again. And his world crushed down. 

“Says here his name’s Louis Tomlinson”. 

 

He doesn’t remember what happened then, in the next 20 minutes. There’s this series of images that kind of give him an idea, like John standing in front of him, concern in his face, trying to take the phone from his hand, and then someone pushing him through the front door like a clothe doll. And then this… the city passing by his window. And John asking really difficult questions. Like if he was okay.

He doesn’t know how long it takes to get to the hospital, and he doesn’t know what hospital they’re in, but they’re rapidly walking through the parking lot in the back of the building (Harry does know this because there’s no people there but them), and once they reach the back door and open it, Harry sees Violet standing there, talking on the phone with a severe expression. As soon as she sees him, she cuts the phone call and nearly runs towards them, both hands placed on the boy’s cheeks, and looks intently into his eyes. 

“Harry, are you okay?” she asks, but he’s already been asked that, and he doesn’t know why people keep asking. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything. 

“He’s in shock. Been like that since he got the phone call” John mutters and Violet nods briefly; then John asks “How’s Louis?”

And Harry knows why he’s here. And he feels… he feels the once deaf pain in his chest, now he feels it, it’s alive and it’s burning inside him, it’s… it’s ripping him apart from inside, like his heart desperately tries to leave his chest. He can’t breathe, the last gasp of air stuck in his throat, and he’s never felt like this before, his sight is filling with black spots, and somehow a part of his brain tells him he’s about to blank out. But he can’t. Because it’s Louis. Louis was in a car accident. It was Louis. 

“Harry!” he hears Violet squeak, that gasp finally going down to his lungs, and all he does is rudely push her aside, not caring about anything anymore, and he runs, he runs like hell down the long hall into the hospital, the woman’s shoes being heard behind, and she yells something, a number, before he feels a broad body colliding with his from behind, but instead of stopping him, John just guides him through more halls and there’s more and more people with every turn they take. 

A couple minutes later, they enter a room full of people, like… very full. There are occupied hospital beds at both sides of the room, and in the middle of the space more people walk and run, dodging each other. There’s a lot of noise and Harry’s brain is fuzzy again, unable to concentrate on one thing. That is until someone to his right starts raising his voice above the annoying sound of a machine, a flat continuous whistle that Harry’s heard in way too many movies for him to recognize. And two millisecond before turning his head that way, he knows what he’s gonna see. It’s too late though.

 

There’s a number of things life cannot prepare you for. Being a parent is one of the most known. Making tough choices too. Falling in love… damn, that thing comes at the most unexpected times and sometimes from unexpected people too. Like, for Harry. 

He never expected to fall head over heels for a boy. And what a boy, honestly, cause as soon as they met, Harry knew he was doomed, there was no coming back from that, and he didn’t want to go back, because the things that boy made him feel, jeez… it had always been so strong, what they had; the experiences and feelings had always been deep, intense, bone shattering, and he loved it, every second of it, every fight and laugh and tear. 

Another thing you’re never prepared for is pain. Pain comes in all sorts of shapes, from any place and person, and they all hurt differently. Sometimes you learn how to deal with a type of pain you’ve felt before, like fiscally a punch, or internally a broken heart. One of the most difficult kinds of pain, though… is the one related to loss. And loss is another thing you can’t ever be prepared for, you just have to take it when it comes, embrace it and try not to let it destroy you.   
It’s not always possible. 

 

Harry can’t remember a time in his life when he felt this much pain. He’s pretty sure there’s not a great number of people that’ve been through it, or else everyone in the world would be… dead inside. That’s how he suddenly feels, like in the moment his eyes focus on the scene before him, his soul jumps out of his body, and his heart wants to follow. And now all he wants is to go back to the fuzziness in his brain, when the unconscious part of him took the lead and protected him. Right now, he feels and sees and hears everything so intensely… he’s wide awake, nerves jolting and blood rushing and heart crushing inside. 

Because how could you ever be prepared to see the love of your life, your fucking soulmate, the person who holds you complete, who stole your heart years ago and keeps it safe, laying on a stretcher, limp limbs to the sides of his very beaten up body, dark blood covering his clothes, a large cut to his forehead and bruises all over his beautiful face. And then there’s the sound that made Harry look in the first place, the vitals machine with a single plain line, indicating Louis’ heart isn’t beating. It isn’t- it isn’t beating, the steady rhythmic sound Harry loves to hear whenever he rests his head on his boyfriend’s chest is no longer there… 

As in slow motion he sees one of the six people inside that small room grab a pair of paddles just like the ones in the movies, and Harry knows what’s coming next, and he knows he shouldn’t be looking, can feel John’s hand insistently pulling on his arm, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t look away, he’s glued to the spot. The doctor places the paddles on Louis’ chest and presses a button, making his body arch up off the table horribly, Harry feels his eyes widen and his mouth hang open, but he doesn’t hear his scream, he doesn’t register a strangled sound leaving his lips until everyone’s looking at him, some with annoyed expressions, others with pity. 

“Harry, for god’s sake, come here!” he hears John yell, but his voice is muffled, like it’s coming from under water. Harry shakes his head hysterically, his whole body tensing up and trembling all of a sudden, all he needs is to be in there, be with Louis and just pull him out of everyone’s hands, handling him as if he was dead already, watching him like hawks, cold gazes and even colder hands. 

He does just that, or aims to it, throwing his weight forward, but he doesn’t even make it to the door when a security guard stops him with full force, returning him into John’s firm hold. 

“No, no, no, no, no! Please let go, please, please!” he hears himself pleading, broken voice and tears streaming down his face like someone had opened the water tap. He can also feel everyone’s eyes still on him, but he doesn’t care, he wants nothing but to get in there and wake Louis up. 

He just wants Louis.

“It’s okay Harry, it’s going to be okay” the man keeps trying to pull him to the side. When gets that Harry’s not gonna give in, he simply grabs him by the waist and hauls him up.

“No, please John, please, let me wake him up!” Harry’s half aware of the scene this must look like from outside, with him screaming like he’s gone completely mad and someone else having to manhandle him so roughly, but he just feels like all this pain inside him has to have a way out, he’s gonna explode if it doesn’t. 

“I need help in here!” a man’s voice is heard over his on pleading words and he barely has time to register a sharp yet brief pain on his arm, and mere seconds later all his limbs start to numb, like when he’s been sitting for a long time and when he stands up he can’t feel his legs anymore. Only this time is his whole body, and a couple seconds later, his brain starts shutting down too, his vision is blurry and he’s having hell trying to concentrate. Why won’t they give him what he wants, though? He just wants Louis, it’s that simple. Just…

“Louis”.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t know who I’m more afraid to face first.”

“Louis. Definitely Louis.”

“Ya think? He’s gonna be confused and all fuzzy for the anesthesia, no?” small pause “Harry’s gonna be hysterical tho”.

“Right. Right.”

‘What’s going on? What the hell? Where am I?’ are some of the questions bubbling in Harry’s head, he wants to ask, say something but he doesn’t seem able to find his own voice, or his lips… or anything really, he can’t move at all; his only fully woken sense is the ear. He can tell the voices talking above an annoying beep are familiar, way too familiar, the kind of voices he’d recognize in the middle of a pandemonium, anywhere and anytime. A few seconds later, once the fog in his brain is a little less dense, he realizes Liam and Niall are somewhere in proximity. 

Once again he tries to talk or move, but all he manages to articulate is a weak pathetic whimper, and he immediately hears two breathings catching for a second before Liam whispers “Facing Harry first, then” and then there’s a big hand on his forehead. “Hazz? Are you awake?”

“Mhn” he mumbles again. His eyelids feel heavy and he could still sleep a few more hours, but he forces to slowly open his eyes and the first thing he sees is Liam’s face inches away from his, a concerned frown and lower lip between his teeth. 

“Hey. How d’you feel?” he asks quietly and backs off a bit but continues to inspect him. In that moment Niall storms in and quickly takes Harry’s hand in his. 

“Harry, God, you scared the shit out of us!” he exclaims a tad higher than necessary and Liam glances pointedly at him. 

“Srry” the curly boy answers and is immediately handed a glass of water, which he takes from Liam with a grateful smile and drinks a long gulp, instant relieve for his sore throat. 

He’s just about to ask what the hell happened and where the hell he is when the bed he’s lying in starts moving slowly and startles him a bit, just before he grasps the boys are helping him sit down on one of those hospital beds. 

Hospital beds. Because he’s in a hospital… 

“What…?” he starts, eyes focusing on what surrounds him, three white walls, one baby blue curtain to his left, cold-looking furniture and that incessant beep somewhere near them. 

And then his friends’ worried as fuck expressions. And he only has to think for zero-point-two seconds before he understands what’s missing, the thing that doesn’t quite fit. Because something happened to him, something bad enough that he’s in a hospital, and Liam and Niall are here, but someone else isn’t.

He can see the exact moment the lads realize he remembers, their hands quickly pressing slightly on his shoulders and chest as if they knew his immediate next move would be to sit up straight. Which, okay… was exactly that. He pushes back though, using his arms as leverage, but he’s still so weak and his head starts spinning as soon as he lifts it. 

“Where is he?” he asks through gritted teeth, refusing to lay down again. 

“Listen, he’s stable, yeah? He got into surgery real quick and they’re…” Liam starts to explain, but Harry shakes his head furiously. 

“Where?” he emphasizes, eyes prickling, he feels so frustrated… why don’t they just tell him, or even better, take him there?

“Calm down, Hazz, please” Niall says, eyebrows almost touching his hairline. 

“Take me to him” Harry begged, eyes starting to fill up with frustrated tears.

“We will, I promise, but you just woke up and…” Liam started to say but was cut off by a strong yet gentle voice behind him. 

“That was quite the show you put up, young man” a man in his mid-thirties said as he came closer to Harry’s bed, an amused smile on his lips. “I’m Dr. Thomas, by the way”

“Hello” the green eyed lad greeted weakly, finally settling down on the bed, defeated. 

“The boy you were looking for is stable enough, he’s gonna be transferred from the ICU to the post operatory wing in no time. He lost a lot of blood due to a big internal bleeding that the surgeon was luckily able to fix; he did have to remove Mr. Tomlinson’s spleen though.” 

“His spleen? Why? Is that bad? Does he need a transplant?” Harry asked in quick succession, once again agitated. 

“No, he doesn’t need a transplant, he’s going to be just fine” the doctor answered patiently. “The spleen is not a necessary organ for adults.”

“O-okay”

There was a moment of silence as the man in the white coat wrote down some of the numbers in the machine Harry was plugged to. The curly boy looked up at Niall and received a kind smile from him. 

“Your mum’s on her way here, H. We tried to tell her it was nothing serious, but you know her” the Irishman chuckled. 

“Liam… you were in London too” Harry pointed out to his other friend, who just shrugged. 

“I had just gotten to Seattle with Cheryl when Niall called me”

Harry was about to ask who had told Niall when he spoke. “John called me and Violet called Lottie and she called your mum.”

“Alright, Mr. Styles” the doctor chimed in once again, “your vitals are stable now, so you’ll be discharged in a bit. You can sit up now, try to walk and see how your muscle strength is as soon as the nurse comes to take care of you, okay?”

“Yeah. Thank you, doc” Harry nodded, he was mostly thankful for the fact that the man seemed to know he wasn’t gonna pay attention to anything unless he had news about Louis first. 

“How are you feeling?” Liam asked as soon as the doctor left, and somehow Harry knew he didn’t mean his physical state. 

“I’m going crazy, Li; I need to see him” he choked out, tears once again threatening to spill down his cheeks. “When I got here, I… he was… his heart wasn’t beating and…” Niall came closer and took one of his hands between his own as Liam rubbed his arm soothingly. “I don’t remember much after that. Or before… I just remember the phone call and then I was here and then… John tried to take me out of the room… and then nothing.”

“Violet is taking care of the legal issues” the Irish lad pitched in with a gentle tone “Apparently a drunk kid decided he could drive home and…”

Harry’s head shot up like a lighting and he stared at Niall in disbelief. “What?! A drunk man did this to him?”

“That’s fucked up”

Harry pressed his lips together and tried to lift his upper body, glad that this time his arms didn’t give out. That was probably because Liam and Niall were now pushing him up and not down. His feet touched the ground and he sighed heavily before starting to lean his weight on them. It took a few minutes, but in the end Harry was walking around almost normally, just the slightest dizziness still clouding his head. 

A pretty redheaded nurse came into the room then with a bunch of paperwork and Violet right behind her. 

“How are you feeling, Mr. Styles?” the nurse asked with a kind smile.

“I’m fine” he said immediately at the same time Liam said “He’s dizzy”. “I’m absolutely perfect, ma’am” the curl boy insisted.

“Well you certainly seem to be and the doctor said your vitals were good, so… we’re letting you go home” the woman announced. 

“Like that’s gonna happen” Niall huffed out under his breath and Violet nodded. 

“Vi… what happened?” Harry chose to ask next, and the woman pursed her lips.   
“Drunk driving, plus texting” she sighed. “There were three cars involved, including Louis’, but he’s the one who got the worst of it. The responsible got a few cuts and bruises”

“This is so unfair… He was just getting things for supper” Harry sniffled, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. He wasn’t a resentful person, and he in no way wished wrong to the person responsible for this, but he just… why Louis?

“He’s going to be okay, H” Liam reassured him, and Harry could see his eyes were shiny too. It was only then that he realized Liam and Niall weren’t only there for him, but for Louis too, because he was their brother too.

“How are you guys holding up?” he asked then, feeling a bit selfish. 

“Same as you, mate” Niall murmured, “Only thing we can do is pray and hope for the best.”

“And be there for him” Liam added with a small shrug. 

Harry nodded pensively and looked behind himself to see Violet signing his discharge papers, since she was probably the one who signed the ones that got him in too. 

“I’m free then?” he asked the nurse just to be sure, and as soon as she answered positively, he sprinted out of the room. 

“Harry, wait!” Violet called for him and he rolled his eyes exasperated, slowing down until she caught up to him out in the alleyway, Niall and Liam at her sides “Why don’t you go home and rest for a bit? You can come in later”

“You’re joking, right?” he whined, “I slept for like…” he paused and frowned, “how long was I out?”

“3 hours”

“See? I’m rested. I need to see him, and you know you can’t stop me” the boy squinted his eyes and waited only until he saw Violet grunt in defeat before he resumed his pace.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Liam asked lowly and Niall cackled. 

“No, but I’m sure you do, so lead” Harry said surely. 

He followed his friends through alleys and paths with doors at each side, turning left and right, now and then encountering nurses, doctors, and other patients, then into the elevator string to the third floor. Once there, Harry saw a big sign saying ‘ICU’ with a green arrow pointing to the left, so they turned and walked some more until Liam came to a halt, causing Harry to bump into him lightly. 

“Room 387” Liam murmured, looking at the small square outside of the room to their left, next to transparent double doors on the other side.

All Harry could see from where he was standing was a comfy looking chair and the foot of a hospital bed. 

And just when he thought his heart rate could stay stable, it proved him wrong. He was no longer ready for this… he wasn’t ready to see Louis yet, cause he remembered the state he was in three hours ago, and there was no way in hell the cuts and bruises on his body were gone. He wasn’t sure what he was going to find in there, but he wasn’t ready. Then again… Harry needed to see Louis. 

So he gave a step forward, and then another and another until he was right in front of the doors and they opened with a low sliding sound. But he didn’t turn to his left, not yet. He took several deep breaths first… and then he looked. 

And his heart dropped to the floor like it was made of steel, because his beautiful, beautiful boy with the blue eyes and crinkled smile looked so… vulnerable and small, and it was wrong. It was just wrong to see him like this, to see the strongest person he had ever known, who went through hell when his mum died and still managed to be the support his siblings needed, who had been fighting for seven years against the oppressiveness of their management team and at the same time reassuring Harry they would make it, who was always there for his friends when they needed him; that was the same boy who laid limp on the hospital bed, with tubes and wires coming out of his chest and arms, all of his body covered in green and purple stains, right eyebrow and left lower lip cut. 

“Oh my god” he choked out, this time not even trying to stop his tears from running down freely as he stepped closer to his boy’s side. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. You’re going to be fine, love, you are, I swear” he kept murmuring words of reassurance as he ran a temptative hand through Louis’ hair and then caressed his beaten up face with the most delicate of touches.

Liam and Niall dragged the individual sofa right to where Harry was standing and physically sat him down on it, not even trying to separate his hand from Louis’ now that their fingers were intertwined. Then they took the other couch, cuddled up against each other. Harry could see silent tears on their faces as well as they all prayed and hoped for the best together. 

 

A couple of sleepless hours later (for Harry at least, since Niall and Lima had dozed off half an hour ago), a rather young and handsome doctor came into the room and smiled at Harry warmly. 

“How is he?” the curly boy asked right away and waited a few more seconds until the doctor checked the vitals and the bag of transparent fluid plugged to Louis’ arm. 

“Apparently there have been no changes in his state, he’s still stable” the man answered and proceeded to check on his surgical incision. Harry pouted when he saw the 5 inch stitched line and looked away, contrite. “Incision’s not infected either, so… I’d say his recovery is optimal” the doctor concluded with a smile and Harry nodded. 

“When will he wake up?”

“Well, he went under general surgery for about four hours, and his head got pretty beaten up as well, so him being unconscious is actually good, he’s recovering. I’ll give it a couple more hours, sir.”

Harry thanked him sincerely and watched him retreat, until a sudden thought came across his mind and he addressed the doctor again. “Is… is this bed made for… more than one person?” he asked shyly and blushed at the man’s knowing smile. 

“Yes, you can lie down next to him” he said sympathetically “as long as you keep in mind his fragile state.”

“Of course” said Harry, already up on his feet. He watched the doctor leave the room and then sat down to Louis’ right and carefully lying down until he was curled up against his side. 

It was only then that he found enough peace to close his eyes and let Morpheus take him into his awaiting arms. 

 

“Can’t believe he got himself knocked down, the dramatics” a voice very near Harry’s ear said with a fond tone. 

“Well, it’s kinda normal? I mean, you were dying” some other person answered matter-of-factly. 

Harry squeezed his eyes together and curled up more against the warmth that enveloped him. 

“Hey there, curly head” he heard then, and in less than a second a million memories from the last 10 hours came back to him, making his head shoot up and his eyes focused on the one face he wanted to wake up to for the rest of his days. Minus the bruises, of course.

“Louis!” he exclaimed, sudden hot tears running down his cheeks. 

“Don’t cry, love, I’m okay” Louis shushed him sweetly, his thumb weakly wiping the dampness away. 

“You were dying! Don’t you dare ever do that to me again!” Harry chokes out between body-wrecking sobs and Louis half laughs, half coughs. 

“Deal”.


End file.
